Mute
by Colorsofcandyandtea
Summary: When I was a cub, everyone thought I was mute.


**Mute.**

**XXX**

When I was a cub, everyone thought I was mute.

I couldn't speak. I just couldn't formulate the words on my tongue, which felt lazy when I tried to speak. Often all I babbled out was loud noises.

The Village's elder couldn't speak as well. He's the one who taught me sign language.

But as I grew older, I wasn't born mute at all. I was just slower then the other cubs. My tongue grew with age, more skilled and precise, allowing me to make noises that sounded vaguely like English. Just a few months later, I was able to talk just as normally as anyone else.

In my late childhood years, I was much happier. Everybody knew me as The Chatterbox. I had a voice, and I used it for almost everything. I could preach about the meaning of life and the next minute, ramble about how clouds should always look like fish. The elder's did not care, for they had known of my soundless younger years.

Everyone knew when it was time to be assigned a role in the Village; the Village's storyteller was going to be mine.

Then Doctor Robotnik attacked the Walrus'.

Robots, armed with heavy clubs, some with metal spikes, fought against the powerful race, the mind control working perfectly on them. Us polar bears attempted to defend them, and destroy the tower that controlled their brains.

They were slaughtered.

Everyone I knew and cared about lay limp on the snow floor, the whiteness turning red.

I was the sole survivor of that village, but not without a scratch.

During that final battle, a robot unleashed a painful attack that ripped against my throat. When I stared at there bodies, I tried to scream.

Nothing.

I had yelled nothing but silence.

I was mute.

**XXX**

After mourning their deaths for a few days, I journeyed away from my home, knowing full well it was too dangerous to stay there. On a piece of ice, I floated away. One long month I stayed on that ice, until a ship found me and picked me up.

There, I spent my days on land, traveling the world. I spent most time in places long since abandoned. Reminded me of home.

One place I couldn't bare to leave. It was a jungle; wild vines covering ancient pieces of stone, sun peaking though the cracks left unhidden by the big green sky.

For a year I spent, hunting for food, exploring the ancient caves and statures, trying to figure out who left all this here.

Then, while walking though my normal walking grounds, I discovered a startling surprise.

A baby duck, barely a few days old, sleeping in a muddy rag. I picked him up, looking around for his parents anywhere in sight. After seeing nothing, I took him back to the cave.

I made a nest out of leaves and twigs, where he slept happily. I obtained a bowl of milk, which I heated on the fire. He lapped at it until it was completely gone.

I learned how to make a diaper out of the pelt of a cat.

I taught him how to read, write, and walk.

I loved him with every bit of my heart.

But as he came of age, there was one thing I knew I couldn't teach him.

How to talk.

So with gathering all of our supplies, I left the jungle. Four days later, I reached a city.

It was… odd. I hadn't been in a city for years, and now, I was trying to walk in the busy streets with a young toddler on my shoulders.

Mobians constantly shouted and complained at me, and I could only give them a quick, "I'm sorry," with my hands. I don't think they knew what it was.

It took me a few hours, but I found the city's school. My plan was to enroll Bean in speech classes, so he could be taught how to speak.

By two he was already becoming a chatterbox.

He talked faster then anyone I'd ever seen, constantly mispronouncing things as he went on with his long stories. I only nodded and signed back to him. But it was enough.

"I love you, daddy!" He would yell and hug my leg, and my heart would gush. Picking him up and swinging him like he was on a vine, I hugged him tightly, and he would laugh and kiss my cheek.

Those are memories that most would cherish. I hate remembering them.

One day, we were relaxing in the cave, and he was being oddly silent. I wasn't paying attention. I was thinking of what age children must be to go to school, worried for his future.

I felt a feathered hand touching the scars all over my throat.

"Daddy… what are these…?"

I tensed up, and the memory of pain and death filled my whole mind. Looking down, I saw his black eyes still staring at those scars, poking at them.

I decided buying a scarf would be a great purchase.

Going to the city, I went to a store which I remembered, scarf's were being sold, two men arguing about the prices. With a few "please daddy," and a sweet smile, Bean soon had a small red one wrapped one his neck. I smiled, putting on brown one for a try.

Suddenly the storeowner screamed, telling us to hide as he ran off. I turned my head, holding Bean protectively.

A giant ship floated against the sky.

Robots landed against the ground, shooting at citizens, some of them already dragging a few into a cage.

I ran off from the store, picking up Beans to hold him tightly in my arms, dodging and running. Bright red lasers of guns struck me, blood staining my fur. Buildings began to collapse as the damage got worse and worse.

I sprinted as one began to fall on me, but even at my fastest speed, the shadow of the building was still on me.

I barely escaped the shadow before it hit the ground.

The crash made us jump. Slamming hard on the ground, the air was knocked out of me, and Bean landed a few feet in front of me. I tried to get up, but the pain from being hit and from running so fast and hard, had exhausted me. All I could do was watch my son beg me to get up as spots of darkness consumed the picture and sound.

I woke up to nothing.

The whole city was destroyed.

Everyone was gone.

Bean was gone.

I went to the scarf store, limping and holding one bloody arm, wrapping my wounds in the colorful scarves. During this, I silently cried, my frown deepening.

Before I left, I saw something.

A scarf, the same shade of Bean's green feathers.

I was silent for a very long time before I slowly reached down to pick it up.

I wrapped it around my throat, hiding my scars.

I didn't go back to the cave.

I just kept walking, with no real destination planned.

**XXX**

Years passed. After I had healed, I decided to take up a training academy. One year later, I gradated, and was expected to take up the case of being a Freedom Fighter.

I wanted revenge for the destruction of my village and the roboticization or death of my son.

But dreams often become forgotten or twisted as time goes by.

I joined a gang, and after they were either captured, killed, or just disbanded; I joined another one. I was the brute strength of every gang, and became famous in the crime world for being mysterious, with apparently no emotions at all.

I must admit it was very true.

Once I hit my middle twenties, I decided to open my own business. A man who'll do any job. No matter what.

A purple wolf-weasel got my attention, and blabbered about opportunities. Big ones. A team, "Team Hooligans", becoming world-class thieves. I began to turn him down, when I heard a familiar voice enter my office.

"Bosssssss! I got the suppliessss! Hahahahah! Did you get the big man yet? What's his name again?" Fang sighed.

"It's Bark. Bark, bark, bark!"

"I didn't know how much wolf was in ya!" Fang groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"The annoying idiot you see is my fellow team member-"

"BEAN THE DYNAMITE!" He shouted out.

I stared.

He was much bigger now, with a changed hairstyle, different voice, and a different outfit. I knew it was him. Bean. My son. How?

The small red scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Heeeyyyyyyyy, I love your scarf! Isn't that a little weird, though? A polar bear wearing a scarf! And a beanie! And big gloves! I can understand the gloves, though. But why with the other stuff? Aren't you supposed to like the cold? Or is it that you like being warm because you've been in the cold for so long? Or is it-" Fang tugged him by his hair.

"Alright, we get it. You don't understand. Now please, I don't need you to cost me another partner." I hastily wrote on a piece of paper: 'Yes I'll do it.' and shoved it in Fang's face. He smiled big, his oversized fang smiling.

"We got ourselves a deal!" With a shake of a hand, him and Bean left.

And there.

I smile for the first time in years.

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**XXX**

_**He doesn't remember me.**_


End file.
